Who Peeled Your Apple?

The ringtone of Emma Hart's phone filled the room—it was Oliver Westmore calling. Hesitant, she picked up just as a man's silhouette appeared at the doorway of her hospital room.

"Figured as much," Oliver said as he entered, carrying a bouquet. He promptly replaced the vase's existing flowers with the ones he brought. Turning to Emma with a natural smile, he glanced at his handiwork and shrugged, "Am I being too overbearing?"

"Not at all, the flowers you brought are definitely prettier than the hospital's," Emma replied, pausing for a moment. It had been a while since she last saw Oliver. He had been busy, and Emma, feeling a bit awkward about suggesting outings, hadn't pressed him for details.

"How did you know I was hospitalized?" Emma asked curiously as she slipped on her slippers, maintaining decorum since Oliver, despite their acquaintance, wasn't someone she was intimately familiar with.